


Your Stupid Pretty Face

by Whizzers_Ass



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, In Trousers References, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, M/M, Marvin (Falsettos) Being an Asshole, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, POV Marvin (Falsettos), Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Canon, Sassy Whizzer Brown, Trina deserves better, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whizzers_Ass/pseuds/Whizzers_Ass
Summary: Soulmates. Such a wonderful idea. The thought that someone out there was perfect for you, that they completed you. And that you loved them. Marvin thought he met his soulmate, Trina, a sweet girl who he started dating in college. He had the perfect life- a trophy bride, a prodigy kid, and a well-paying job. He thought he knew what perfect was, until that son of a bitch, Whizzer Brown, showed up.
Relationships: Marvin & Trina (Falsettos), Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 97





	1. Soulmates

Soulmates. Something people dream of, that everyone is constantly trying to obtain. The idea that someone out there is meant to be yours, and your meant the be theirs. That a perfect love story is waiting for you, in a passing stranger. 

I suppose I realized what was wrong with me since high school. Lovely ladies, my sweetheart and my teacher. But none I fell in love with. I’ve had friends tell me that about a girl sitting in front of them, with her soft blonde hair and emerald eyes. Friends have described to me fantasies of them and a girl, all alone. I’ve never known anything like that.

The thing with love is that it isn’t in just one person. That you don’t have one set path in life, and that life can be filled with twists and unexpected turns. That a perfect storybook romance isn’t dependent on one person, but can be attributed to a few people. The first time I felt love was when I was sixteen.

He sat in front of me in English. His shirt was neatly pressed, and he had such a pretty face. A transfer, he was there just that year. I forgot his name, but he changed my life. One day we were supposed to do partner work, and me and him were grouped together. That was the first time I felt love. 

I didn’t talk to him. I was too scared to, scared of him. Mostly of me.

Mostly scared of how and why, out of years of waiting for my soulmate, it was another man. I suppose this might have been punishment. I was an entitled fourteen year old. But I don’t think I did anything bad enough for justification. For justification for that. What could I have done that I deserved such punishment?

He didn’t say anything about me. No mention to whether or not he felt the same way I did. 

His name is long forgetton to me, but what he did to me was unforgettable. He made me frightened of myself. It wasn’t right to fall in love with a male. It was wrong, against nature. Nor is it right currently. Or will it ever be. I dated a girl right after, a lovely girl with look-at-me blue eyes. A high school sweetheart, but nothing more. We broke up senior year. I don’t know how she felt about me, for I felt nothing towards her.

After high school, I went on to college. Nothing was unusual about freshman year. I met this lovely girl, Trina. We went out to coffee shops often, walking alongside streets and laughing. I talked to her when therapy wasn’t available, and she cried on my shoulder over bad romance movies. There was nothing romantic between us, or at least that I felt.

For her, it was quite the opposite.

“Marv,” Trina took a deep breath. We were in her dorm room, her helping studying for my test. Frost clung to the windows, and the heater rattled as it did its best to warm the room. The room was still bitter, my toes and fingertips numb. A cheap table stood in the middle of the room, the two of us hunched over. Papers were in neat stacks, and notecards of every color were scattered. Her roommates were out for the day.“I suppose we’ve been friends for a while.”

“Well, yes. I suppose we have been.” I shifted in my seat, the rickety plastic squeaking in protest. Something was going to happen.

“And I know you feel this way. At least I hope you do. But I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Shit.

Was that even possible? For her to fall in love with me, and for me to feel not as much as a drop of anything romantic for her.

“I believe we ought to go out together sometime, more than friends.”

I smiled. “Of course.”

A coward. I was a coward. Ashamed of myself, unable to admit it. I knew why I didn’t see any numbers. Trina was a lovely girl, but not mine. There was someone else out there who was for her, who held those same standards that she held for me. We started dating, and got pulled into a marriage as we graduated. We spent years together, and at some point, we were expecting our first child. 

I was sickened by it. There I was, married to a woman I wasn’t romantically involved with, who loved me with all her heart. Who I dated for years, filling her coat pockets with candies and Valentine notes. And then I got her pregnant, causing us to marry. She didn’t deserve it. It was my own fear and denial that brought this upon us. It was like a card tower: staked so delicately, and towers that I keep building. Jokers and Aces climbing upwards, that would all have to come crashing down at some point. I could have stopped at the first few cards, but instead I’ve built a palace. Because I was scared of myself. Hoping for the protection of a feeble card tower.

But not now. That would be another day far in the future, far from now, when I’ll have to knock it over. For now, I was protected by my fragile walls.

Nine months passed, and we had a son. Jason, a traditional Jewish name. Maybe it was me projecting, hoping for a traditional family. A housewife, an office father, and a child. Who knew that I would end up as far as possible from this? I did, but I chose to ignore that voice.

He was our only child, I refused to add another turret to my card tower. Jason helped me stabilize my life. Now, my main focus wasn’t a wife who I didn’t love. Instead, my attention has been switched to my child. Intelligent and constantly learning from the world around him. He grew up with a love for logic, and was a natural at chess. For six years, my life felt normal. That there was a chance for me to live out a perfect life, living the life that every teenager rebels against, only to fall into it themselves. A well-paying office job, a trophy wife, and a prodigy kid. That was my life. Until that son of a bitch showed up.


	2. Whizzer Brown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new man is on Marvin's office floor. A charming smile, side-swept hair, and a neatly ironed pastel shirt are the very things that will change Marvin's life. And he won't allow it.

I worked at a typical New York office, working in marketing. I was highly apprised in my position, despite all my work fueled by 9am coffee-drunk hazes. I made some friends there, that made the routine a little bit more bearable. Hardly friends, just a bunch of people banded together by sharing forty hours a week with. Years passed, and I climbed positions. Someone retired, leaving a position open. The cubicle sat empty for a few weeks. Until he showed up.

He made his presence noticeable the second he walked in. Messy yet perfect hair spilling right above his eyes, looking soft to the touch. A bastard smirk on his face, flashing his perfect smile. A tall figure towered over me. He dressed in pastel clothes, everything about him flamboyant. I saw some looks of disgust towards his polished shoes and ironed pants from my coworkers, thoughts of prejudice running through their heads. The only thing running in mine was his eyes. 

Something about him felt right. How he held himself, and the way he dressed himself. His confident walk, like he knew just who he was. That he knew his place in the world, and perfected what he was to do. Only later would I find out that his purpose was to ruin lives.

My eyes followed his swagger, hypnotised by the way he carried himself. Then it hit me just how hot he was.

He walked by, and we made eye contact. He smirked at me, and I was too scared to do anything back. Moments later, he was hidden in his own workplace, and I was alone with my thoughts.

It’s been decades since I’ve last felt anything, and this was the second time it was for a man and the second time for anyone. I refused to think about what this could mean for me. 

I don’t even know what happened that day. It blurred together, flashes of glances to his cubicle and clips of voices. Somehow, I ended up in the subway, waiting for my daily commute.

“Hey.” I ignored the voice, believing it to be a background conversation. Until I felt someone gently touch on my shoulder. I turned around, and of anyone who could have been there, it was him. That pretty man.

“Hi.” I replied, curt. Panic overtook me, I didn’t mean to be so cold. Shit, why did his pretty face make me feel like this?

“Uh, hey. I just moved here from a small town in Nebraska, really quite the change, and I recognized you from the office. Since we seem to be heading in the same direction, I thought I could get to know you a little more.” 

“Oh, of course.” Why was I sweating? “Yeah, I live down by Times Square, you?” Why did I give him where I lived? 

“Just by my lonesome, also around there.” He stood by my side, and I stole another glance at him, to make sure he was standing right next to me. He was.

We stood side-by-side, not talking. How could he stay so calm and collected, while I could feel the sweat dripping down my back? The subway soon arrived, and he disappeared, his pretty face lost in the crowd. I didn’t even get a name.

I made it home, feeling even more dazed than normal. Trina was in the kitchen cooking linguine, and Jason was playing chess alone. Blacks were winning, although it was close.

“Hi honey, how was your day?” Trina called. She threw a glimpse back at me, then could see that something was wrong. “Is everything alright, dear?”   
  


“Nothing’s wrong.” I snapped. She went back to her cooking, without another word. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. That he lived near me. How close is near? A mile? A few blocks down? Same building? The idea that he could be that close to me without knowing gave me a sort of strange feeling that I couldn’t put into words. 

Trina was quiet during the rest of the evening, only speaking when needed. I was the same. Jason did most of the talking, about chess, life, science, math, anything, but it all fell on deaf ears. Trina was thinking about who knows what, and I about the man. Soon, night fell, and I was laying in bed next to Trina, unable to fall asleep.

Why did I feel this way? How could I not have these feelings for Trina? We’ve been married for about seven years, dating even longer, and had a child. Why did I have to have these feelings for another man? My whole life, I’ve seen women pass by. I’ve had friends get married, deeply in love with a woman. They could gush on about her for hours on end. They would describe to me their bodies and desires in a way I’ve never felt nor noticed about women. I never understood it. Sometimes I would glance at men on the street, my eyes lingering for a second too long. That was the closest I’ve ever felt to how they described. The stranger at work filled every box of what my friends described to me.

Why me? What did I do to deserve this? To suffer knowing I’ll never feel that way, that no matter what I do I’ll never feel right? I could stay with Trina and stay in a marriage with no love. Leave, and what happens? I’ll be a social outcast. No one will want to be friends with what I am, I’ll be fired from my job. But I couldn’t leave. No, I certainly couldn’t. Any path I’ll take will be filled with twists and turns, each one wrong. 

I hardly got any sleep that night, and what I did manage to get was dreams of me and him in circumstances which I will not care to specify. Trina hardly spoke to me once I woke, but I didn’t care. I put on a little extra care into my appearance today. Plaid blue decorated my ironed shirt, with my red rectangular tie, and my nicer dress shoes. Trina raised an eyebrow but said nothing, as did I. I left the house a little earlier, hoping to maybe find him on the way there, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about it or not. 

I arrived at work, and tried to distract myself. Crunching numbers, analyzing data, anything to put my mind off him. I didn’t want to think about him. Him. Damn, whenever I tried to not think about him it only strengthened. I watched as the clock slowly dragged on, each second lingering for a moment too long. Finally, the smaller hand reached five. I felt myself let go of a breath I never knew I was holding, but then something stole my breath back once more. He was on my daily commute back. I’d have to talk to him again. No. That can’t happen.

I don’t know why I was so childish, avoiding him like that. Just talk to him, or at least let him know that I don’t like him so that he won’t talk to me.

But I don’t want that either. What was it about him that turned everything in my life upside down? I thought that I had everything planned out when Jason was born, then all of it comes crashing down with a flash of his handsome smile.

I’ll just work late today. Avoid him, and get my mind off of things. Be productive, as I sure as hell wasn’t today. Yes, that could work. Numbers are simple, calming. Clear plans give comfort.

With my new task in mind, I set to work. The floor started clearing out, but I didn’t notice. Until a sudden urge of thirst overcame me. I worked for an hour and a half later. Shit, I knew Trina would be mad. Asking me why I was so late, and I’d have to come up with a feeble excuse of a stop at the bar or something of the like. I have enough time on my commute to come up with one.

“Just me and you?” I jumped. I swore I was the only one here. I turned in my chair, and saw him. Of course, with my luck he would be the only one here. Alone with me. “One would think that you were trying to avoid me, but that wouldn’t be possible.” He leaned against the wall, brushing hair out of his face.

“And why would that be?” I asked, trying my best to keep my voice monotone. Why was he so cocky? He just so happens to have a handsome face and all of a sudden I’m down on my knees, worshipping him? 

“Well, for starters.” The man crossed his arms. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, and I’ve been with enough men to know what you are.”

I stood up. Who the fuck did he think he was? Why was he so full of himself? “Well. Okay. You’re nice on the eyes. So what? What else do you want me to tell you? And frankly, you’re a bit full of yourself, you think? Maybe instead of walking up to people and claiming ‘I know who you are’ you should honestly think a bit more about them. Some people have wives and a son, you know.”

He scoffed. “Wife? Please. I’ve seen too many men like you.” He pointed me up and down with a wave of his finger. “So insecure of themselves that they marry a pretty housewife, have the perfect little child who will end up being a fuck-up in eighteen years because their parents don’t love each other and they realize their inteligance, the only thing they prided themselves on, ended up not being special. Then the moment someone like me turns up, they retaliate because they built themselves the perfect little nuclear family. Because they don’t want to be a freak. They’re too scared of what will happen when they leave their joyless lives as a perfect husband to finally get a taste of happiness. Well whoop-de-fucking-do, you’ve just won yourself another fourty years of living in a loveless marriage. Congratulations!”

What?

What the fuck?

Why did he feel the need to verbally attack me in such a way? I did nothing to him, and he comes after me like that?

I pushed him out of the way, mumbling obscenities. If I was done with him before, I was ready to ship him off to another planet. I stormed out of the office, and marched into the street. Why was such a man so pretty? Seeing that face on such an annoying man just made my blood boil even more. Adding salt to the wound, feeling these things for not only a man, but one who just so happens to be a complete asshole! Even more bang for my buck. Of course.

The commute back to his apartment was a blur of livid thoughts and teary eyes. As I got to my apartment door, I fumbled with my keys before they managed to slip it in. As I opened the door, Trina looked up from the table. Three meals sat, two half eaten. Her eyes were filled with a flurry of emotions, and I was too much in a state to dissect them.

“Marvin, I think we ought to-”

I closed the bathroom door before Trina could finish her sentence. Normally, I would feel guilty. But after what that bastard said, I needed to recollect himself. I paced the bathroom, tears welling up. I swore to myself I wouldn’t cry. That’s not manly. Anger is manly. I could deal with that. I kicked a trash can, a metallic ringing echoed throughout the bathroom.

I’m not insecure. Whatever he said, I wasn’t. I loved Trina. I mean, after how many years of marriage, I’d have to. My marriage wasn’t some defense against myself. I loved Jason. I cared about Trina. Besides, even if I didn’t it certainly wouldn’t be that man who got in the way.

But his words still ate at me. Sure, I cared about Trina. But did I love her? I’m not sure if the answer is the same. But I was happy. I loved Jason, watching him grow. I liked Saturday nights where me and the boys would go out and have a few beers. It was a fine life.

A knock rattled the door. “Marv, honey? We need to talk when you get out.”

“I’ll be out soon!” I retorted back. Her voice quieted, although I could still sense her presence outside my door. She lingered for a few seconds, then I heard footsteps leave, presumably to the dinner table.

I looked in the mirror at myself. I was crying, my eyes puffy and red. I promised myself not to cry. Although usually puffy, but from lack of sleep. My hair was tossed more than usual and my tie askew. I splashed water on my face, hoping it’ll freshen me up, but instead just got my face looking incredibly sweaty. 

Opening the bathroom door, I entered the kitchen. Trina sat at the table, picking at her half-eaten meal. Eyes met mine, and they were once again filled with no definitive emotion.

“What kept you so late, Marvin?” A single emotion can finally be made out. Or rather, the lack of. Coldness. There was no anger, no light-hearted comment. It was that statement. Nothing more, no “she said angrily” or “she barked”. 

“Work was stressful.” I tried to retain the same emotionless manner Trina had. I don’t think I pulled it off as well as she did.

“You think I don’t know that? You’re not the only one working a stressful job. Clean the house, cook the dinner, take care of Jason, tend to you when you get back. I don’t get hours. I don’t get weekends off. I don’t get pay. You don’t think I’m stressed out?” By the end, her voice cracked. Slowly, desperation and sadness filled her tone, until her was on the verge of tears. Dabbing her tears with her napkin, she continued. “Never mind me. I’m just worried about you, Marv. You’ve been acting so weird lately. When was the last time you’ve seen Mendel?”

“I’m fine, Trina.” I sat down, taking her hand. “Seriously.” Her eyes searched mine for answers, for anything, but found nothing. Sighing, she left the table and washed her dish. I sat there, watching her work away. The words ate at me, making me doubt how I felt about Trina. She’s lovely. A perfect laugh, with honey hair and kind words. I love her, right? But the lack of numbers on her arm said otherwise. I sighed at ate my meal, the chicken meringue tasteless to me.

>^<

I survived the night. I don’t know how I did it. Tossing and turning, deceptive feints of sleep before jerking awake in a cold sweat. Fever dreams of past lovers and pretty boy smiles. Water didn’t help, it only further fueled my sweating. Trina mumbled multiple pleas for me to sleep with each turn, but they proved fruitless. At least it was the weekend. Not that I would willing suffer that night again, but it’s better when you don’t have to work on who knows how many hours of sleep.

I woke up to the smells of bacon and coffee drifting through our apartment. The morning light tried to fight it’s way through the curtain, only slivers winning. Making a quick stop to the bathroom, I studied my face. My eyebags were even more pronounced than usual, which was saying something. Despite that, however, I didn’t look bad. I left the bathroom and entered the kitchen, where Trina was trying to tame Jason. He sat at the table, talking off her ear. Eyes with not an ounce of liveliness to them, until she saw me. Instantly brightening, she motioned to my chair. A plate with sizzling bacon and golden eggs accopained by a cup of coffee marked my place. Breakfast was never this fancy, unless it was the day after a fight.

“Hi daddy!” Jason swung his little legs from his chair, his messy hair in their wild curls. I always said he had my hair. 

“Hey kid.” I poked his nose, then sat down and into my meal. 

“I had a dream last night, where you, me, and Mom were inside our house but then a bunch of robots attacked! They were really bad and started killing a bunch of people but then you and me stopped them!”

“That’s cool, Jason.” I made eye contact with Trina, her desperate eyes telling me she was victim to Jason’s wild stories.

Trina quieted Jason.“Marv, you remember what today is?” Shit. What was today? It wasn’t her birthday, or Jasons; it wasn’t our anniversary; I don’t remember making any plans with her. 

Oh.

“Your parents are visiting.” 

She sighed. “Yes, they are. I know you don’t like them, but-”

“Those bastards don’t like me! They hated me first.”

“Language!” Trina covered Jason’s ears. There are little ears present.” Trina threw me an icy glare.

“Mommy, what’s a bastard?” Jason looked up at her, eyes full of wonder.

Trina shot me an icy glare. “A very naughty word. You should never repeat it. Your father here let it slip out, which he won’t again.”

“I’m just saying I would be better off if we don’t see each other.” I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. Trina looked at me in silence for a minute, the room uncomfortably quiet. Jason turned his face into Trina’s body.

“I suppose you’re right.” Trina started, her voice slow. “Maybe just this once it will just be and them. We haven’t done that in a while. Besides, you’ve been stressed lately. Don’t protest me, I see you. I don’t care what you say, but you’ve been weird. Go out today, get a few beers, go bowling, hang out with the boys, I don’t know. They’ll be here in an hour.”

I slunk back into my chair. Although relieved to not have to deal with my in-laws, it annoyed me how fast Trina was to dismiss me. She was right though, I always complained, and it’s been years since she met up alone with her parents. Although even now she has to care for Jason.

“Okay, I’ll get ready then head out.”


	3. Him Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Marvin able to escape for the day when Trina's parents comes over, he finds himself with a free itinerary and no plan. With nothing to guide him through the day, Marvin has a run-in with a familiar face.

I’ve always hated chaos. Some people seem to relish in it, always not making plans until the last minute, if they make plans at all. I myself always need to plan ahead, map out every detail way before the final bell. So being thrown out of the house with an hours notice threw me in for a shock. 

Not wanting to have a run-in with Trina’s family, I got ready as fast as I could. I threw on my red sweater that desperately needed a wash, and a pair of jeans. Trina always fussed whenever I wore something like this, but today she was too busy with fixing the house. Making it out of the apartment in record time, I wished Trina and Jason a quick goodbye before stumbling into the street. Only then I realized I had no plan. 

It’s too early to go to the bar, I’m all by myself so bowling wasn’t an option, and I wasn’t in the mood for the movies. A walk in the park seemed like the only option currently, and then later I could grab lunch and meet up with people. I started heading towards Central Park, whistling to myself. I let my mind grow blank, and threw on autopilot. I pushed myself through the busy sidewalks, through the businessman running late to their meetings and parents trying to hurt their kids. Soon I found myself in between oak trees, their leaves beginning to turn golden. The air was nip, and woke me up more than any coffee.

There was something magical about Saturday mornings in New York. Air with enough nip to it almost slice you; chilly sun hugging you like a cheap blanket, never quite keeping you warm; leaves with hints of oranges and reds to them; and the strange sense of euphoria from the atmosphere.

I bumped into someone, snapping out of my thoughts. We were both thrown on the ground, bruising my tailbone. I opened my eyes to see a quite attractive jogger besides me, messy hair in his face. He got up before me dusting off his short white shorts. He offered me his hands, and I took them. Strong arms propelled me up, and then it hit me.

It was  _ that  _ bitch.

I almost didn’t recognize him, I was used to him wearing his neatly pressed shirts, not tiny shorts. 

“Crazy how we always run into each other?” 

I laughed, no humor in my tone. “Hilarious.” I started to make my way past him, only for him to tap on my shoulder. “What?”

“Say, you seem like you have nothing to do. How about we run to my place real quick, I’ll take a quick shower and change, then we can go someplace together?”

Was he crazy? He insulted me to my core just yesterday, and was now inviting me to his place then to go out together. He had to be delusional. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied. “Sure. Suit yourself,” then continued on his way. I stood looking after him, thinking what would happen if I went. I mean, I did have the day free with no plans and no one else to see. If things went wrong, I could just leave. Besides, my own curiosity of what this man was like was too much to ignore.

I ran after him, then tapped on his shoulder. “Sure. Why not? I have nothing to lose.” I tried to keep my voice calm, which seemed like an impossible feat.

He flashed his white teeth. “Alright then. Lets go.” Throwing his arms, he pointed. “Down there’s where I live. Let’s go.” We walked side by side, not saying anything. Tension was thick, not a single word said between us.

“I never caught your name.” I broke the silence.

“Whizzer. Whizzer Brown. And the most pleased to be your acquaintance.”

I almost cracked a smile. “What kind of name is Whizzer?” 

“Jewish origins. Something along the lines of ‘gift from the heavens’ or some bullshit like that.”

A smile was now on my face. “Aren’t you a gift from heaven. And I didn’t know your Jewish, I am as well. Rare to find someone else.”

“Well, technically I’m half-Jewish. Didn’t know you were as well. I gave you my name, so you better give me yours, otherwise I’ll be pretty annoyed.” Whizzer was finally smiling for real. Not a cocky, romantic smile. But a genuine one.

“Oh, my name is Marvin. Don’t know what it means.”

Whizzer laughed. “Wow, someone over here has a real ass boring name.”

Funny how the mind works. When you so badly want to see someone in a certain light, you ignore everything else. I wanted to hate that bastard. But I couldn’t. Ten minutes into the conversation, I was already fond of him. Even after everything he did to me. All the emotional pain and stress. All the fear of myself and my life. All I wanted to see when I looked at him was his handsome face.

Before I knew it, we were standing in front of his apartment. Only two blocks down from mine. I mentioned this to him, amazed how close were. Whizzer smiled and opened the door for me. Relatively nice, although cheaper than mine. The main residents were single adults or college students, which reflected the quality. We took the elevator up, and I swore I could hear my heart pounding. He lead the way, I trailing behind like a confused toddler. Keys jingled in the lock, and the door creaked open.

It was a small apartment, but nice. A quaint kitchen led into a reading room. There wasn’t a book out of place, no speck of dust on the bookshelf, not a dirty plate in the sink. A door was hidden behind two lazy boys, presumably leading to a bedroom. A couch stood across from the chairs. I was stunned by how well he took care of the place. A bachelor living alone would usually have clothes on the floor, half eaten microwaved meals left out, beer cans scattered around, and a persistent smell of B.O. Whizzer’s room was neat and orderly.

“You can hang out here for a bit while I get ready. Help yourself to the fridge.” Whizzer gestured to the fridge as he left for the bathroom. Within seconds I was alone in his apartment. It only just hit me in that moment what I was doing. I hated this man’s guts a mere thirty minutes ago, and now I was unsupervised in his apartment while he was taking a shower. That sat uneasy with me, that maybe fifteen feet to my left he was showering. I tried to take my mind off of that by browsing through his bookshelf.

What books some reads is a pretty good indicator of who they are. Fiction are usually read by dreamers, typically having an interest in art. Crime can be to a more mature audience, and romance is for hopeless romantics. Whizzer had a variety of philosophy books, dystopian, a handful of fiction, and mystery. There was a smaller, hidden away shelf. Curious to what was in this tucked-away shelf, I took out a book titled “The Wild Boys”. I read the synopsis, then nearly dropped it. A gay novel. Taking another book off the shelf, it confirmed my fears. The entire shelf was filled with homoeromantic novels. I quickly left, shaken.

I stood in the middle of his room, hugging myself. Who this man really was. I knew it at the back of my mind the entire time. From how he dressed, how he held myself, his dialect and mannerisms, the way he looked at me.

And if he was  _ that _ , and I felt crazy about him, then that means that I was…

No. 

No.

I couldn’t. I have a wife. I had a son. I couldn’t be that. I couldn’t feel those things. I couldn’t have that in my life.

“Marv, are you okay?” I spun around to Whizzer standing in the door. He wore a baby blue shirt, a leather jacket over, as well as an expression of concern. “You’re pale. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine.”

Whizzer raised an eyebrow. “Grab a coke from my fridge. You need something to drink.” I nodded, grabbing a can from his fridge. There was actual food in his fridge, which matched the tidiness of the rest of his apartment. A chicken was hidden away, assumingly for tonight.

Whizzer pointed to one of his chairs, then sat down in the other. I offered to grab him a coke, which he accepted. I went over, bringing his delivery, pulling myself together. 

The chill liquid helped settle me, my heart rate slowly returning back to normal. Whizzer said nothing, just sat in silence, drinking. He made no move to force me to open but, but presented a welcome mat. I rejected, so we continued to leave the silence. 

I had enough of the silence. “You read, I see.” I pointed lazily to the shelf, noticing how hastily I put that book back. 

“Yeah, I don’t have much to do, no partner, no friends, so books make my companions. His soft eyes found the book I took out, and a small smile broke out. “I see your interested in my books.”

The sick feeling started to come back, with that book becoming the topic of conversation. “Well, yes, you can tell a lot about a person by their choice in literature.” I tried my best to redirect the conversation, while being still on topic, as I had no alternative ideas.

Whizzer’s smile grew, as did my sick feeling. “What can you tell about me?”

I shifted, my previous dislike of him starting to grow back. “Well, you drama. Always wanting to hear what happened between two enemies, or what one lady remarked about another.” He nodded, confirming my guesses. “You also like to think about life, possibly the meaning. What we’re meant to do. If fate exists, or the universe is just a bunch of random events. What love is.” I realized mentioning love love was a mistake, and moved on. “Who we’re meant to be.” 

Whizzer shifted into a more comfortable position, drawing his knee up to his chin, holding his eyes in mine. “Anything else?” I knew that the book was in his mind. The one I looked at.

“That’s about it.” No need to mention it.

Whizzer scoffed, putting himself into a more convenient sitting position. “Of course, ‘That’s about it’.” He mumbled more to himself, just out of earshot of me.

I grew annoyed at him again. “I can just leave right now if you want, you don’t seem to be enjoying my company. Don’t even know why I came here in the first place.”

Whizzer shot out of his chair, a bitchy look on his face. “Please do then, if you’ll speak like that. Don’t want someone like you in my house anyways.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I stood up to face him, but he still had a few inches on me.

“Someone who wants to live that way, but is too damn stubborn to admit it. Someone who goes to the edge of the water, wanting to swim all the way in and swim in the deep end, but are too cowardly to dip their toes into the water in the first place.” Whizzer sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“There you go again, just assuming everything about a total stranger’s life. Like your some all-knowing god that knows just exactly what I’m feeling every second of every goddamn day. That because you’re gay doesn’t mean that every pretty boy that your little dick is attracted to is gay as well!” I froze. I said it out loud. That stupid word. That he was that. The sick feeling I had earlier returned, even worse. Tears started to build, but I wouldn’t cry, not in front of someone like him.

I took a shaky breath. “I have to go.”

A new emotion covered Whizzer’s face, I would almost say regret, but I wasn’t sure if he could feel that. 

“Wait, Marvin.” His voice was soft, I haven’t heard anything like that from him. It was the erie still after the storm, the gray calmness the morning after the streets got flooded. 

I shook my head. “I have to go.” My hands were shaky as I reached for the door, I didn’t dare look back. The elavater ride back down was pure torture. I hugged myself, trying to steady by breathing. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t. I channeled that sadness into anger. Anger is easier to manage. Sadness leaves you exposed for the world, anger builds a shell that protects you. Sadness was weakness, and you couldn’t show weakness. You need to be tough. 

I was good at transforming sadness to anger, I’ve done that my entire life. From when I was young, I’ve learned that life is unforgiving. That life doesn’t give you what you want. My fourteenth birthday was supposed to be a huge celebration, but I had to scream for a simple breakfast. I never fell in love with any women, instead men noticed me. I married a woman I never loved, and she fell pregnant with my child. And now Whizzer Brown showed up. Someone who I never wanted, but someone who I might need.

A bell dinged, and the doors slide open. I stormed out, glancing at the clock over the door. 11:47. Late enough to go to the bar. God knows I need that right now. I threw the door open, shoving my way through the lunch rush crowd outside. I got a few dirty looks, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get away from him. 

I don’t know how long it took me to get there, there was no space in my brain to estimate numbers. I threw open the doors and flagged down a bartender. I ordered a beer, desperate for the numb of liquor. This early, the bar was a sadder scene than at night. A tourist couple speaking in something vaguely Asain. Drunks with double the legal amount of alcohol, a man crying in the corner with a bottle, someone who is probably on seven state’s sex offenders registry making obscene comments about a bartender’s body. I suppose I fit right in, a man full of anger drinking for the numb, not the buzz.

I kept ordering beers and whiskeys, and kept putting money down. Soon my mind started to slip away into nothing, and the hours slipped by. I didn’t realize I hadn't eaten since breakfast, the alcohol quieted the hunger.

At some point the bartender came up to me. “Hey, man. You’ve been here a while. Go home, you’re blackout drunk.”

I looked at the bartender, watching them dry a glass. Looking around for the first time in hours, I saw that the night crept in. Party-goers started to replace the sad drunks of the day. My wallet slowly drained of cash, something Trina would bitch at me for. All she ever does. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Her stupid parents are probably still there. I tried to read a clock, but couldn’t make out the numbers. Oh well, if they were still there when I got back I was sure to make that their problem. 

I stood up from the stool, almost falling down. My head throbbed, and I couldn’t balance. Stumbling out of the bar, I was blinded by the New York lights. This only worsen my headache, and I groaned. I made my way down the street, nearly falling a few times, before I realized I couldn’t remember where I lived.

I sat down on the side of the road, hugging my head. My heart thudded inside my skull, each pump sending a new throb of pain. I don’t know for how long I sat there before I threw up. Heaving on the side of the road, my body forced every crumb in my digestive system out. Once I was done, I got up, my legs untrustworthy to hold me. Trying my best of muscle memory, I lumbered back home. I don’t know how far I got before I passed out.

>*<

I woke up on a couch, my head even worse than before. I don’t know how long has passed since I left the house this morning. Or yesterday? I wasn’t sure what day it was. I pushed myself up, then felt my heart skip a beat. 

This wasn’t my couch I was sleeping on. Those weren’t my curtains, that wasn’t my bookshelf. The walls were a different color, and my house never smelled this way. I wasn’t even wearing my clothes. I wore pale blue jeans with a red and white striped shirt, everything slightly too big. My red sweater was nowhere in sight. But something about this was all familiar, though I couldn’t say what. That I should know where I was, but hungover me lacked that knowledge. Whatever drunk Marvin did, he threw himself into a long-forgotten place.

“You’re up.” A familiar voice chirped.

Oh. That’s where I was. Whizzer Brown’s apartment. I guess drunk Marvin went to the last place he was at, which was here. To give him credit though, I lived just a few blocks down.

Another thought dawned on me. These were his clothes. I was wearing Whizzer’s clothes. That though disgusted me more than anything else, the nasty feeling in left in my mouth left me preferring the sour vomit taste from last night.

I rubbed my head, groaning again. “What happened?”

Whizzer chuckled, then gave me a glass of water. “For that hangover. You’re not in college, Marv. You can’t drink like it.” In no mood for jokes, I reluctantly took the water, wishing for sobriety. “Well, let's see. Last night around elevenish I heard a thud outside my door. You were outside, on the floor, half-awake. I took you in, and you bitched quite a bit, but that’s not different from sober you. You were an absolute mess, all sweaty and covered in vomit. I cleaned you up a bit and changed your clothes--your’s are being washed right now, you are absolutely filthy--and laid you down to sleep for about eleven hours, it’s just past 11:30 right now.”

“You changed my clothes?” I groaned, my head hurting too much to deal with the personification of a headache.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I wasn’t touchy.” Whizzer winked at me. I almost threw up again from that remark. I grew even more dizzy. He reminded me of what he was, and that he embraced it. But yet he cared for me. He made sure I had a place to sleep and was clean, even if he did strip me down. He didn’t do anything to me while I was drunk, at least I’m pretty sure he didn’t, I didn’t feel any odd sores or bruises. Maybe being what he was isn’t that bad. Maybe it doesn’t make you a monster.

“Marvin, go back to sleep. You need it.” Whizzer’s voice was soft again, like how it was when he was begging me to not leave yesterday. It was surprisingly comforting, rather peaceful. 

“I need it.” I softly agreed. I turned over in his sofa and went back to sleep.


	4. Whizzer Begs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin wakes up in Whizzer's apartment, and Whizzer begs him to stay for dinner. Marvin reluctantly agrees to his offer. Soon, however, Whizzer begs to bring him somewhere else.

Smells of chicken in an oven woke me up. Opening my eyes to the warm light of Whizzer’s apartment, I caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen. A plum shirt paired with brown trousers caused a striking look, and I was hypnotized by it. Snapping myself out of it, I instead focused on what he was cooking. Other than the chicken in his oven, a pot of broccoli was cooking and carrots were being chopped.

Yawning, Whizzer finally took notice of me. “Hey sunshine, you’re finally awake. It’s only dinner.” He pointed the knife towards me, a playful smile on his face.

Did he say dinner? I swore under my breath. Trina was going to kill me. I’ve been out for nearly two days. Bringing myself to an upright position, I yawned again. “I appreciate your hospitality, but I really have to go. My wife if going to kill me.”

“Ah, com’on. You can stick around for dinner. It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes, and I made enough for two. What’s another thirty minutes?” Whizzer begged.

“I suppose,” I started slowly. “ it won’t hurt. Besides, I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and that was breakfast. I’m starving.” 

Whizzer’s smile returned. “Great. I’m an excellent chef, you know?”

Making my way over to a stool near Whizzer, I watched his hands as he cut the carrots. Delicate, yet sturdy. Confident in each slice, clearly a natural cook. Silence filled the space for a few minutes, until Whizzer broke it.

“You said you had a wife? What’s she like?” Whizzer tried his best to be nonchalant about it.

I shifted in my seat. “Yeah, I have a wife too. Son as well. He’s amazing, super smart. Top of his class. Great kid.”

Whizzer cleared his throat. “Your wife?”

“Oh, yeah. Her name is Trina. She’s really sweet, has soft brown hair. Always super thoughtful and caring. Good cook.”

“Do you love her?”

This took me aback. I sat in silence for a moment, shocked. “Well, she’s my wife. Yes, of course yes.”

Whizzer placed down his knife and looked at me. “Now is she your wife because you love her or do you love her because she’s your wife?”

I fidgeted in my seat, not sure how to answer. Really, did I love Trina before I married her? Or even after I married her? Love isn’t always perfect, it can be messy and flawed. It might not be meant, but it can be true. But I wasn’t even sure if mine was true to her. That after years of marriage I learned to love her. I forced myself to love her.

“I don’t know.” I said plainly.

Whizzer’s voice was low and quiet. “Thought so.”

I didn’t have the energy to fight back with another remark. If anything, Whizzer was being the voice that I quieted years ago, that I forced into a tiny corner. Maybe it was time to listen again. The silence was back, lasting until the food was ready. Whizzer prepared two plates, and we ate in silence. I had to say, that man was a good chef. 

Whizzer broke the silence. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Excuse me?” I looked up from my chicken.

“There’s somewhere I think you’ll like. We can go right after we eat.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been home in two days, I have work tomorrow, actually we both have work tomorrow.”

“Com’on, everyone needs to be a little stupid once in a while.”

“Like you aren’t stupid all the time.”   
  


“Great, we’ll go then.” Whizzer smiled.

>*<

Cold wind nipped at my cheek, the early autumn setting in. Though the sun had set a while ago, the streets were brightly lit and crowded. I was still wearing Whizzer’s clothes, him insisting that I needed to be dressed somewhat nicely for where we were going. They hung from me, made for Whizzer’s tall body. The cuffs of his trousers folded around my sneakers, as I refused to wear Whizzer’s shoes.

“So, where are we going?”   
  


Whizzer shook his head. “I already told you, you’ll find out when we get there. Now stop asking me that question, you toddler.”

I cracked a smile, allowing myself to get comfortable around Whizzer. Although the memories of what happened when I did that haunted me, so I refused to laugh at him. “What makes you think I’ll like this place if I don’t know where we’re going?”

Whizzer winked at me, “I just know.” 

One thing I hated about Whizzer Brown, among a million over things, was that he was so cocky. Always teasing with a bastard smirk, always winking and flashing his perfect smile. That no matter how much I hated him, he always made me want to break down my walls.

Time slipped by, I wasn’t sure how long we walked for. Small talk brightened the cold walk. Anything we talked about. Life, work, hypothetical questions, our childhood. That I never talked about, it’s just that stupid Whizzer makes it so easy to talk to.

“Here we are.” Whizzer stopped me on the street, and pointed to shops on our left. A sushi shop stood there, closed. 

“Are you sure? Seems like there’s nothing.” However, Whizzer was pushing me by my shoulder. Leading me into the bordering alley, he smiled like a madman at me. What was with this guy and his smiles? And more importantly, what were we doing in an alleyway? My question got answered pretty quickly.

Whizzer opened a rusted door and I was immediately blinded by a rainbow of lights. I heard a woman singing, her voice sultry and smooth. Chatter echoed, and laughing shot off in rounds.

“You first, Marv.” Whizzer nudged me in. It felt like some kind of fever dream, lights in a myriad of colors and noises at every turn. A bar stood to the left, much livelier than the one I went to yesterday. Couples were making out on chairs, pressed up against the walls. Something caught my eye about these couples.

Men pressed other men against the walls, women were putting their hands down another womens’ shirt. Drag queens with enough makeup for en entire circus of clowns walked around, in the smallest of shorts. A few people that I first mistook for men were actually butch women, with short hair and masculine clothing.

I froze, stuck between fight and flight mode. Not only were all my senses in overdrive, but from the people here. Why did Whizzer want to bring me here? I knew deep inside why he did. But I wouldn’t admit that. That I was that.

“Marv, you look sick. Let me get you a drink.” Whizzer lips were close to my ears, needing to get close for me to hear over the noise. Nodding as if in a trance, Whizzer grabbed my arm and pulled me to the bar. It was as if I was gliding through the air, barely taking in everything around me. Grabbing two neon stools, we took a seat. Even the bar was rainbow, with glitter covering nearly every surface. Once again, he dragged his chair to be closer to mine so we can talk better. Whizzer waved to a group of people, which meant that this was not his first time here. I doubt it was one of his first times here. In fact, it was possible he was here so often it was like a second home. His manner was relaxed, leaning against the bar. There was no need for him to look around in wonder, he was here often enough. No need to look at what drinks they served, he bought each one a million times.

I finally realized why he told me to wear his clothes, I would look out of place in my red sweater. Even in his clothes I looked plain. Not that people were in suits, but that men wore enough colors to fill up a kindergartener's dream crayon box, and enough neon to blind anyone’s eyes who dared to linger too long. Everything about this place was colored in rainbow, and glitter covered every surface. Faces sparkled in the dimed lights, the strobes catching the glitter.

Whizzer ordered something from the bar, and seemed to be good friends with the bartender. My leg bounced up and down, my breath slowly being drawn from me. I wanted to leave, everything inside of me was screaming to run. But I couldn’t. Some horrid curiosity kept me still, to stay at this bar with Whizzer. Then something stopped my leg from moving up. I threw my eyes down and saw Whizzer holding my thigh. “Marvin, relax.” I nodded, drawing a deep breath.

The bartender placed two fruity drinks in front of us, bubbling pink with fruits and a yellow umbrella. Did he wink at Whizzer? “Whizzer, I appreciate you buying this for me, but I don’t drink stuff like this.”

Whizzer scoffed. “What, too much of a man to drink something pink? That thing has more alcohol in a drop than an entire bottle of beer. If you’re so much of a man you can overcome anything and still retain your manliness. It’s not about shooting protein straight into your veins or having a beard, it's about how you can defend yourself and keep getting back up. Your a shit man if you can’t let yourself do something fun because other people say you can’t” Whizzer took a sip of his drink, crossing his legs.

Staring at my drink, I realized he had a point. What kind of man allowed him to be bossed around by other people in mundane things? Grabbing the drink, I took a sip, and Whizzer cheered me on. I didn’t realize how strong it was. Beer, though still alcoholic, is nowhere near as strong as what Whizzer bought me. The liquid burned my throat as I swallowed, and I wasn’t prepared for the sugary fruit flavor. I nearly gagged, but managed to keep it down. However, after a few more sips, I found the flavor addicting. It helped soothe my nerves, but that is not to say it rid me of them. It merely lowered them a few levels.

“Marvin, I need you to tell me something. I need you to be completely honest.” 

I looked at Whizzer, surprised at his serious expression. Whizzer was always smiling or doing some pose, but he never looked like that. What nerves the alcohol had destroyed came back three times as strong. I’ve been nervous before in my life, but this was the worst. Because I knew that Whizzer Brown was a life ruiner. And here was I, sitting in this bar, wearing his clothes, drinking a girly drink, and he was about to ask me something, and I’m afraid I knew what it was.

“Whizzer, what are you asking?” I knew what he was asking. I didn’t want to believe it.

“Are you gay?”

Oh fuck. I nearly dropped the drink. Of course not. Why would I be? I had a wife. But in the last few days, Whizzer changed everything. His carefully chosen clothes, how everything had to match; his messy brown hair that swooped right above his soft chocolate eyes; his toned arm and graceful hands; his stupid pretty face. Maybe, I was.

Maybe it’s not so bad. I’ve always thought my life was great. I had a gorgeous wife who kept the house clean, a son who tops his class, a well-paying office job, a nice New York apartment, going out to get a few drinks on Saturday, I’ve always thought I’ve lived a fine life. Thinking about it though, did I really think my wife was gorgeous? Sure, she was attractive, but I don’t think I’ve ever been sexually attracted to her. I’ve always liked her hair and clothes, but never once did I view her romantically. My son was a genius, but he wasn’t normal. No friends, always playing chess alone, that’s not normal. I love him, but I want normal in my life. I need normal. And my job was nice, but that was my entire life. I slept to work, I ate to work, my only focus in life was my work. A few beers with friends on a Saturday is not enough. To have only one night out of my week to hang out with friends, who we weren’t really friends, but coworkers with no one else to turn to. Just to get mildly drunk and watch football. I don’t even like football. Then to go home late at night and get blackout drunk. I don’t even remember what happened when I got that drunk, although I think I yelled a lot.

Was that really a fine life? Maybe Whizzer Brown didn’t just destroy lives. Maybe he destroyed lives to build a better one in it’s ashes. Maybe he can offer me a way out of my mundane life. 

Truth is, I think I’ve always known what I was. I was just too scared of who I was to admit it. Maybe it just took someone like Whizzer Brown to finally get me to realize who I was, and live by that.

“Marvin, did you hear me?” Whizzer’s voice snapped me back to reality. 

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

There. I said it out loud. When someone asks you, “are you gay?”, there's no “I don’t know.” That’s a yes. And Whizzer knew that. A soft smile broke out on his face. 

“Marv, let’s go dance.” He got up from his stool, offering his hand. And like a fool, I took it. I don’t even know the last time I held hands with someone romantically. Trina and I held hands occasionally, but that was more of a casual, non-romantic gesture. This was the first time when I took someone’s hands, my heart skipped a beat. When I first entered the bar, it felt like I was dreaming. Now, it felt like that all over again, but for a different reason. 

He led me out to the dance floor, where the band just started a slow song. Couples swayed to the soft music, and soon me and Whizzer joined them. There was a foot between us, both of us were afraid to make the first move. Holding his hand was enough for me. As the song drew on, our footsteps slowing moving in. By the end of the song, my head was resting on his shoulder. He was warm, and heart moving to the beat of the music. Calming and steady, it thumped in his chest. The shirt smelled just like his apartment, like it was fresh out of a dryer. 

That moment stayed for too little, and before long the song ended, and we drew apart from each other. Applause rang from the crowd, cheering the singer. A sparkly jumpsuit hugged her curves, a stark contrast from her swarthy skin. 

“For the strike of eleven, here is my last number for now.” 

Was it already eleven? It felt like just a second ago I was in Whizzer’s apartment, badgering him to finish getting ready so we can leave. And Trina. I had to get back home to Trina. I didn’t even want to leave yet. I wanted to hold Whizzer for forever, swaying until the end of time to a song. But there was Trina at home, and I had work tomorrow. Now that I took a taste of this life, I didn’t want to go back. But dreams don’t last forever. 

“Whizzer, I have to go back home.” Whizzer looked at me, disappointed, but no amount of anger.

“Okay, let me walk you home.” I nodded, and let Whizzer lead the way out of the rave. The street was surprisingly dark for New York, my eyes still used to the blinding colors of the bar. We walked alongside each other, none of us saying a word, unless I needed to direct the way to my apartment. With each step I was reminded of the life I had to go back to. 

Whizzer Brown was like the first time you wore glasses. Your whole life you were in denial about your eyesight, beliving it was normal to squint at signs three feet away. Then he comes into your life, and you’re able to see around you for the first time, how the world really looks. However, instead of you now staring at wonder at each individual leaf on a tree, you now realize just how shitty your life is. And you wish you could go back to your denial, that your life was great. But now that you’ve seen everything for the first time, and seen what life you could live instead, everything can’t go back to how it was. Everything had changed, whether I liked it or not.

Soon we were outside my apartment, and I turned to Whizzer. “Here’s my place.” I shifted on my feet, not sure how to end this. Do we handshake, hug, or what? I honestly wasn’t sure what our relationship was. Were we enemies, friends, acquaintances, or something else? I nodded at Whizzer, and entered the building. I didn’t look back to see Whizzer’s face. I didn’t want to see how he reacted, in fear that I somehow hurt him with that goodbye.

I took the elevator ride up, dreading the moment I would open my door. I know Trina is still awake, probably waiting for me. To ask what I’ve been doing, where I’ve been. That’s what Trina does, she worries. I was right, as I saw a sliver of light beneath the door. I hesitated for a moment. That just thirty minutes ago I was soaring with Whizzer Brown, and now I’m going back to my life. My boring, shitty life. I took a deep breath, and unlocked it.

Trina was in the kitchen, stirring something in a bowel. Her movements were erratic and cautionless. I stood in the doorway, wondering if she would address me. But she just seemed intent on making whatever she was cooking. At midnight.

“Trina, are you okay?” I asked softly, as if she was a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. 

She paused what she was doing, and took a deep breath. “Marvin, you’re home.” Her voice was brittle and breathless, tired more than angry. Defeated in tone, not the angry, concerned voice I was expected. Whatever I was expecting coming into this room, it was not this.

“Trina, are you sure you’re fine?” I made my way into the kitchen, but Trina stopped me.

“Marvin, stop. Go to bed. It’s late.” Her voice cracked, laced with tears. But I was glad she excused me, as I didn’t want to deal with her. I had enough problems of my own. I head to the bathroom, getting ready for the night. I stood in the shower, watching the glitter fall off of me. It was a strangely melancholy moment, to watch the only physical remains of the bar literally fall away into a drain, gone forever. Soon, I was underneath my blanket, with all the lights turned off. Trina was still in the kitchen, doing who knows what. I didn’t talk to her after our first encounter, not wanting to make things awkward. So I lay alone, in my bed.


	5. Mendel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin goes to therapy, trying to work over his problems with sexuality.

I went to work the next day as normal. Trina said nothing of last night, or anything at all. She silently cooked breakfast, and Jason was oddly quiet. I’m sure he was smart enough to know something was off, although his little mind wasn’t sure what it was. When I got there, Whizzer Brown was already there. Sneaking past quietly, I made my way to my desk. I didn’t want to talk to him today. I did, but Whizzer was too much for me to handle today. I still needed to think about last night.

So I worked as normal. Or as normal as I could convince myself. How many days has it been since I met Whizzer? Four days ago, today being the fifth. Not even a full week. How could someone that has been in just a snippet of my life be the most influential? I suppose that’s just who Whizzer was.

The clock soon struck five, releasing me from work. I wanted to talk to Whizzer, but I had a conflict. Mondays, right after work, was when I went to go see Mendel. I always hated our sessions, but I suppose that was the one thing keeping me from going crazy. If I wasn’t already.

Mendel’s office was close to my work, so I never took the bus. Every Monday I walked the streets through the crowd. I swear I need a whole session of therapy just from that walk. With everyone just getting off of work, it’s always hell to walk through. I eventually made my way into the clinic, checking in with a disinterested receptionist with too much time on her hands. 

Wallpaper covered the walls, a few overgrown plants in the corner of the room. A stubby coffee table had magazines thrown on, all pyshocology stuff. Soft music played from behind the receptionist's desk. I hated the waiting room. I hated everything about seeing Mendel, but the waiting room looked so cheery. A carefully decorated room, as if were a home. Where a wife would welcome her friends over into the parlor, and they would offer remarks of tasteful decoration, in which the hostess would thank them for. She’d offer tea, and they’d talk of their husbands and the neighbors. So cheery, all for a place that reminded me that I wasn’t normal. As if I needed any more reminders.

Mendel was just finishing up with someone else, I always arrived early. Even though I hated this place, I always tried my best to be fifteen minutes early. My mind went over what we’d even talk about. Usually our sessions had to do with my childhood and consequences of it. Sometimes it would be my anger. I never would have expected what I know we’ll have to talk about today.

“Marvin, please step into my office.” Mendel stood by his door, letting Caroline-or was it Diane-out. I followed Mendel into his door, into a room decorated the same. A grey couch was pressed against a wall, and an armchair faced it. We both took our seats, facing each other. 

“So, how are we feeling Marvin?” Mendel crossed his legs, looking at his notes. 

I sighed. “Well, I don’t know.”

He looked up. “Oh? And why is that?”

I rubbed my hands together, not sure how to tell about it. “Something just happened Mendel. Something big.”

“Do you need to talk about that for now?”

I laughed, more out of nerves than anything. “Yes, I suppose. You know Trina?”

“Your sister?” Mendel flipped through his notes. “Wife! Your wife! She’s your wife.”

Mendel was about as smart as a pile of dirt, but I’ve had him too long to switch. I’d rather not start over from square one.

“Yes, my wife. I’ve always thought I’ve loved her. When I first married her ten years, when Jason was born, but now, I’m not sure.” I sat in silence, not sure how to continue. 

Mendel figured that out for me.“And why is that?” 

“Because I’ve met someone else. I first hated them at first, despised everything about them. How perfect their hair was, always messy but beautiful at the same time. A smile so bright that you can see it a mile away. Their stupid, pretty face. And when I first met them, I tried to hide all those feelings. Because I had a wife and a kid. I couldn’t fall for them. But now, I’m not sure if I can go back to how I was before. Now that they’ve come into my life. I don’t think I can go back with that ignorance I had before. But to go into this life, I don’t think I can do it. Doing it might destroy me, but not going might kill me. I don’t know what to do.”

“So what I’m understanding is that both options will be hard for you, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Which one do you think would be better in the long run? That in, let’s say a decade, in which decision will you be happier in?”

I rubbed my face. “What I’ll be happier in and which one is better for me are completely different.”

“How so?”

“Well, one option I’ll be with someone I love, for the first time in my life. But I’ll be divorced, I might lose custody of my child, and I’ll be a ho-.” I almost said it outloud. “I’ll be an outcast. No one will want to hire me, no one will want to be my friend. On the other hand, keep everything else intact, but I’ll be miserable. It’s a question of love or life.”

Mendel was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I see. I know I’ve told you in previous sessions that you aren’t the only person on the planet, and I still want you to understand that. But if other people are coming in the way of your happiness, and you aren’t hurting anyone, you can disregard them. Ignore them. Make your own happiness, as long as it isn’t taking from anyone else’s.”

I sat in silence for a bit, thinking about that. “Well, that’s the thing. I’ll hurt people if I leave. Trina is sensitive, she’ll break if I divorce her. Then Jason, he’s sensitive too.” I sighed. “Both options someone will get hurt. Whether it’s me, my life, or family.”

Mendel sat, looking thoughtful. Or maybe he was thinking about putting more cat stickers on his notebooks. He already had quite a few.

“You’re in a loveless marriage with Trina, correct?”

“Rather harsh, but yes.” I shifted in my seat.

“So what will happen if you split. I’m sure it will be a shock for the both of you, even if you weren’t in love. Then let's say, she’ll meet a guy. She’ll remarry, and they’ll be in love. You’ll be with whoever this girl was you talked about, and Jason can travel from two loving houses to another. Do you think that is possible?”

“No.” I stopped myself. I don’t know why I was so defensive of Trina, considering I didn’t love her. “I mean, I suppose it is possible. It’s just hard to imagine after so many years of marriage.”

“I see.” Mendel checked his watch. “Well, we still have thirty minutes left. Do you want to continue where we left off last week?”

“Please.”

>*<

Returning home, feeling lighter. Sure, there were still a ton of nerves, but not as much. Sometimes Mendel was decent at his job. Trina was almost done cooking dinner by the time I got back. I couldn’t bear to look at her after what we discussed. So, I did the only other option I had, and went to Jason’s room.

His room was painted a forest green, his favorite color. A rotating chess board for one was in a corner of his room. Toys were scattered around, dinosaurs and little robots. A handmade wooden shelf was pushed against a wall, with small enclosures filled with frogs and an assortment of bugs. 

Jason was currently sitting at his chess table, whizzing the board around. From hours upon hours of playing chess alone, he was an expert at it. Trina and I have tried to get him to play something else, like cards, but only chess appealed to that kid.

“Hey kid.” I leaned on the doorway, watching him.

“Hi dad.” Jason hardly looked up from the board, focused on winning.

I walked over, pulling a chair to the board. “Mind if I join?”

Jason looked at me, disgust in his eyes. “Yeah.” He went back to his game. Trina always pestered me on about “connecting” with Jason more, and how I “never talked to him.” Pretty hard to do when Jason was being a little shit, like now.

“Okay, well, I’m going to stay in here. Trina’s being crazy and I’m hiding for a while.”

“Is Mommy being a bastard?” Jason spun the board around once more. The blacks were winning.

“Kid, you shouldn’t say stuff like that. Where’d you learn it?”

“You.” 

Oh right. We were both quiet for a while, and Jason was on the verge of finishing the game when Trina called us for dinner. I left the room silently, leaving for the dining room. Jason followed soon after, and the three of us were all together, physically. Mentally, we were all miles apart. We all picked apart our chicken, our minds elsewhere. I still had no clue what was going on with Trina, and Jason too was acting distant out of nowhere. Sure, he did prefer Trina, but he usually talked much more. And of course I had Whizzer Brown and Mendel still on my mind. Soon we finished, and I couldn’t help but to think Whizzer’s tasted better. 

I left Trina to clean the dishes, and I turned on the television. Jason returned to his room, presumably to finish his chess game. I flipped to a random soap opera, just needing some sort of distraction. Soap operas were also nice, because it showed me that no matter how messy my life was, there was always someone with a worse life.

Soon Trina joined me on the couch, resting her head on my shoulder. Her hand crawled into mine, and I stiffly took it. There was no passion in it, the only warmth her body heat. Time slipped by, minutes turning into hours. The sun fell from the sky, the room being light from a harsh table lamp. Soon the shows turned from the day shows to the night talk shows, and I moved Trina off. Soft eyes met mine. 

“I’m tired.” I explained. 

She nodded. “I’ll come with you.” Following me to the bathroom, we got ready for bed. Brushing teeth, her removing makeup. I finished before her, with her having a more in-depth routine. I changed into my sleepwear-underwear and a t-shirt, and crawled under the sheets. Trina came in shortly after, changing into her sleepwear. Sliding in next to me, we stayed quiet for a while.

Trina got up on her arms, looking over me. “Marvin, when was the last time we had sex?”

Shit. “I don’t know. Why?”

She brushed her hair out of her face. “I mean, that’s the point. Marvin, I don’t know the last time you did anything romantic for me. Or at least sexual. It’s been months!” She huffed.

“I’ll take you out for dinner tomorrow, honey. Go back to please.”

“Marvin! Can you do something tonight? Please?” Her hand started to tickle my back, trying to entice me.

“I’m not in the mood.”

She grumbled. “You’re never in the mood.”

“Fine.” I sighed. I sat up in bed, taking off my clothes. She followed, and we made love. If you can call it that. More like “making futile attempts at something like lust”. It was all bored and bland, almost as if I were on autopilot. I can tell Trina wasn’t satisfied. We finished quickly, and put on our clothes. There was an unbreakable silence between us, awkward and bitter. Soon, sleep overcame both of us, in the same bed but completely different places, a wall of bitter feelings between us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than normal, a bit of a filler chapter. Only 2,000 words instead of 3,000. However, the next chapters will be the normal length, so don't get worried, they will be normal again soon.


	6. Your Lips and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin takes a day off work, and someone shows up to take him out.

I woke up, sweating. My nose was blocked, and my throat was sore. Stomach in knots, as if one wrong move could upturn last night’s dinner. Heart echoed through my head, each beat going off like gunshots. Great. Just what I needed on top of everything else. I turned over, seeing Trina already left the bed. My eyes drifted further, and looked at the clock. 9:30. Shit. Not only was I feeling like absolute crap, but I was late for work. I guess I’ll just call in sick. Hoisting myself to my feet, I stumbled over to the phone. Dialing the number, I called myself in.

Continuing my struggle to the kitchen, I flopped to the table. Trina was feeding Jason, smiling at him. It wavered when she saw me, but she kept it up. 

I rested my head on the table. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me what time it was?”

“I didn’t realize what time it was.” She continued talking to Jason, this time in a lower voice so I couldn’t hear. I rubbed my face, already done with the day. Trina got up from the table, handing me a plate of eggs and coffee. She didn’t speak a word, and went back to Jason. I ate them in silence, hoping some breakfast would help me. My nose glowed red from wiping it, and I nearly choked a few times while eating, unable to breathe through my nose.

After a half hour of dying and eating eggs, I crawled over the tv. I flipped on a channel, and let my mind numb. I wasn’t watching a lot of tv, mostly using it for background noise. My eyes grew heavy, and I may have dozed off a few times by accident. Trina brought me soup, and soon I began to feel better.

“Marvin?” Trina called. I looked up, seeing her standing in the doorway. “Do you know a Whyzer-Whizzer Brown?”

My heart skipped a beat. Why was she asking. “Yeah, why?”

“He’s at the door. Wants a word with you.” I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Pulling myself up, I met Whizzer at the door. Trina walked away, entering the kitchen.

“Whizzer, what are you doing here?”

He looked me up and down. “Jeez, Marv. You look like shit.” I remembered what I was wearing. Just a thin t-shirt then my underwear. My face reddened, matching my nose. 

“Yeah, I know. I feel like shit. What are you doing?” I repeated my question. 

“I didn’t see you at work today. Came to investigate.”

“Are you ditching work?”

“Yeah.” So nonchalant, putting his hands in his pockets. “So, want to go grab lunch with me?”

My eyes narrowed. “You’re skipping work, asking me if I want to go grab lunch with you?”

“Wow, look at Marvin! Finally learned something! Yes, genius, I am. You better not make me skip for nothing.

I laughed. “Guilt-tripping, keeping it classy Mr. Brown. Okay, give me ten minutes, I’ll get ready. You can come in if you want.”

Leading him in, Trina looked over. “Marv, who is he?” She cut carrots, preparing for lunch.

“Trina, this is Whizzer, Whizzer Brown. He’s a-” I looked at him, not sure how to describe him. “Friend. We work together.” Trina studied Whizzer, a mixture of horror and something else on her face. Taking in this flamboyant man.

“Well, Whizzer, what are you doing here? Please correct me if I’m mistaken, but you shouldn’t you be working right now?” Her tone was careful and cold. I’ve been with her long enough to know that tone meant. She hated Whizzer’s guts.

“Yeah, I should be. But me and Marv are grabbing lunch.” Whizzer settled on the couch, resting his feet on our coffee table. Trina smiled, then returned to cutting the carrots.

I headed to my room before those two got anymore awkward. Opening my closet, I fingered through my wardrobe. Normally I wouldn’t give a second thought about what I wore, but Whizzer outdressed me on everything. I needed to out style him. Picking out a green dress coat, I threw that over my blue plaid shirt with simple brown pants. I brushed my teeth, cleaning out the sick, vile smell with an easier mint.

Returning to the living room, I saw Whizzer talking to Jason. Trina had eased up, still in the kitchen, her fingers tapping the countertops. Jason sat right next to him, both comfortable. I heard snippets of conversation, seemingly about baseball. I never knew Whizzer liked baseball. Then again, I didn’t know a lot of things about Whizzer. I snuck towards Trina. 

“They seem to be getting along, aren’t they?” 

Trina looked at me for a second. “Jason heard someone come in. Then he started talking, and you know how he is once he starts. And I guess Whizzer knew a thing or two about baseball, since he’s managing to say something in the conversation.”

I made my way towards Whizzer. Sure enough, the two were talking about baseball. I tapped Whizzer on his shoulder. “Whizzer, I’m ready to go.” 

Whizzer looked up at me, putting his hand around my arm. His grip was firm, but careful. “One sec, Marv.” He turned to Jason. “Okay little guy, Whizzer’s gotta go.” Whizzer lightly punched Jason’s arm, then stood up. “Lets go, Marv. Oh,” He looked at Trina. “Take care... ?”

“Trina.” She smiled. Genuine this time. I guess he grew on her. 

“Trina. Take care. Jason’s a rascal.” 

“Oh, I know.” She called Jason, and I led Whizzer to the door. Opening the door, we stepped out.

“Jeez, Marv. You can’t dress for the life of you. Don’t try to impress me.” I huffed, annoyed at how fashionable Whizzer was. He truly was, a white shirt with the tiniest hint of pink, and black trousers. Perfect hair. I nearly looked homeless next to him.

“No need for that, dickhead. Com’on, let’s go.” We walked out of my building, him leading the way. We walked side by side, pushing through the lunch rush. The crowd shoved us right by each other, often times I was shoved into Whizzer’s armpit. My arm kept grazing his. I felt something warm engulf my hand. Looking down, it was Whizzer’s. I didn’t expect him to have such soft hands. Our hands danced together. It was a milder act of love, different. Slow dancing was a fairytale love. Feeling his heartbeat echo in his chest, resting my head against his shoulder. Soft music in the background, as we swayed for seemingly hours. Hand holding was much more real. Holding hands was a warm coffee after an all-nighter. It was a stranger holding a door open for you as you rushed, late to your meeting. Everything so simple, miniscule moments, but holding so much unspoken appreciation. 

We held hands through the crowd, anchoring ourselves to the other in the sea of people. Trekking a few blocks down, Whizzer pulled me inside a restaurant. It was a small family-owned sandwich shop, one I’ve never been to.

“This is my favorite place.” Whizzer told me. I realized I was still holding his hand. No longer hidden by the crowd, I slipped my hand out of his. I didn’t want to be seen in a public place holding a man’s hand. Whizzer grunted, clearly annoyed, but said nothing. We ordered our sandwiches, then took a spot by the window. 

“I always sit at this table.” Whizzer started. “I love to watch the people walking on the street. To wonder what lives they live, what moments have lead them to be on that street? And to where they’re going.” He chuckled. “I imagine they live very different lives than I do.” 

“I don’t know anyone who lives like you do, Whizzer.” I remarked. It was true. No one else I knew made my blood boil, but made me hate every second we were away. No other person made me question everything about me. Not one other person made me feel so incomptent, fashion-wise.

“I try to live like that, Marv. I try to live like how I want to live, and not by meaningless rules other people give me. I want to be able to dress how I want, go where I want, love who I want to love.” Whizzer looked in my eyes. “Not many people are brave enough to love who they want to love.”

I was about to reply, but our order was ready. Whizzer left the table to fetch our sandwiches. Within moments he was back, handing me my sandwich. I ordered the same thing he did, not sure what else to get. 

No wonder this place was Whizzer’s favorite. The sandwiches were incredible. We discussed the food, remarking possible cooking methods they used. I knew nothing about cooking, Trina always cooked for me in the last few years. Before that, I mostly ate take-out and poorly cooked eggs. Whizzer seemed to be a culinary genius compared to me. But after living on your own for over twenty years, you learn a thing or two about cooking. 

“Hey Marv, my apartment is only a block down. Say we just go there instead of back to your place? Just for like an hour or two?”

How could I deny that? “Of course.” Finishing up our sandwiches, we left the restaurant to Whizzer’s apartment. Starting small talk, I asked him about baseball.

“I was a pitcher on a little league team when I was younger. I hated it to be frank, my parents made me do it ‘to man me up’ or some bullshit like that.”

“Wow, you not manly? I’m shocked.” I teased. Apparently this was the wrong thing to say.

“Actually, yes, you should be shocked. Just because I like it in the ass doesn’t mean I’m less of a man than you. Maybe I’m more because I’m able to do something traditionally non-masculine but shrug it off.” Whizzer huffed, crossing his arms.

I grew angry at him. There was no need for him to be so rude, or for him to share such private information. We arrived at Whizzer’s apartment, and he opened the door. Leading me in, he threw his keys into a small bowl by the door.

“You know what Whizzer?” I crossed my arms back at him. “You think you’re so much better than me just because you’re gay.” I almost stuttered while saying that word, but I managed to spit it out.

Whizzer froze, a weird smile on his face. “You know what? Yeah, I do. Because I’m not lying to myself with a marriage with a nice girl and a son. That I don’t have a fucking panic attack when I see a gay novel.” I was about to say something. “Yeah, I know what happened a few days ago.” Whizzer stepped towards me, cornering me.

I laughed, all anger. “You know what, Whizzer Brown?” I threw my hands in the air. “You really are a dick.” I laughed again. “You really are.”

“Like you’re not.” 

I was about to throw something back when Whizzer silenced me with a kiss. I didn’t expect it. I would have been less surprised if he just hit me. He pressed me against the wall, his hips against mine. 

I wanted to throw him off. I really did. But his lips were too soft, his face too pretty. I followed him, grabbing his back. His hands ran up and down my sides, and he slid his tongue into my mouth. My hands went for his hair. It was as soft as it looked. Silky and thick, impressive for his age. He bit my lip, and I pulled his hair in response. 

He smelled of flowers and clean laundry. Pressing my body against his, his smell drenched my clothes. Whizzer stopped for a second, tracing his finger on my chest. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

I couldn’t help but blush. Here I was, blushing like an idiot because of this jackass. Because he was pressing me against a wall, his body right against mine. Because he was kissing me.

“Whizzer? Why me? Why me of all men?” I smiled at him. Honestly, why me? Whizzer and I were complete opposites. 

“That’s something I’m trying to figure out for myself.” Whizzer smiled back, then went back to the task of kissing me. I didn’t know for how long we stood there, kissing. Not long enough, that was for sure. 

I stopped. “Whizzer, this is wrong. I’m married, I can’t do this. I can’t live this life.”

Whizzer ran a finger along my chin, looking into my eyes. “Are you sure you want to go back to being a married man? Would you rather stay with me?”

“God yes, Whizzer. God yes.” We went back to kissing, Whizzer still pressing me against the wall. When we started it was softer, but now we were rough. Whizzer’s weight trapping me to the wall, his chest and hips in mine. The kisses were faster and harsher, more desperate. Whizzers hands slid away to my shirt, unbuttoning it. He didn’t take it off, just allowed for his hands to slide against my chest. His nails dug into my back, and his mouth travelled down my neck, leaving soft kisses in it’s trail. 

I hadn’t realized how deprived of love I had been. Never once had I kissed Trina like this. Never once did I want to take it even further than kisses. I’ve never had my breath taken away, having another’s replace it. To feel their body pressed against mine, and to want to be even closer.

Sometime the passion died, and Whizzer eased himself off of me. We sat side-by-side on the couch, cuddling. I felt high. High from pretty boy kisses. Desperate, sloppy kisses. Delicate, soft kisses. I felt high from everything about Whizzer Brown.

“Whizzer, you’re absolutely incredible.” I whispered this into his ear, brushing his hair to the side. “Seriously. Everything about you is pretty. Your face, your voice, your kisses, I love it all.”

“Marv, love is a strong word.” Whizzer gently scolded.

“And I have strong feelings about you.”

Whizzer pushed me off of his shoulder. “Alright you horny bitch, time to get you back to Trina.”

“Whizzer, please, not yet.” I begged. I didn’t want to go back to my old life. I didn’t want to have loveless sex with Trina, I didn’t want to go back to a loveless marriage. I wanted to stay with a pretty boy, kissing and dancing for the rest of our lives.

“Marvin, now. We’ve been gone for almost three hours now. I don’t want Trina to be upset with you.” Whizzer pulled me to my feet, buttoning my shirt back up. 

“Marv, you’re such a mess. When was the last time you’ve kissed someone?”

  
“I’ve never kissed anyone like that.” I confessed. Whizzer buttoning my shirt back up again was almost as good as him unbuttoning it. Almost.

He scoffed. “No wonder you melted the second my lips touched yours.” His eyes raised from my chest to my neck. “Looks like I left some marks.”

I groaned. “Shit, hope Trina won’t notice.”

Whizzer smiled. “I’ll walk you back.”

Nodding at him, we left his apartment. We talked on our way back, like nothing happened. Like his tongue wasn’t down my throat twenty minutes ago. The walk from his apartment to mine was becoming familiar, walking it countless times in the last few days. And with such a treat at the end of the walk, I made sure to try to memorize it.

Whizzer recognized we were at my building before I did. I thanked him for walking me back home, then entered the apartment.

Trina was cleaning the living room when I walked back in. “Marvin, what took you so long? What did you do?” She smiled at me, her voice filled with more concern than anger. Then something clicked. A quick emotion flashed across her face, a concoction of fear, anger, and sadness. It was too quick to fully make out, then her stubborn smile returned.

“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been out for a long time, and you weren’t feeling great to begin with. Watch some tv, or something?”

I completely forgot that I was sick. Something about Whizzer brought me life. Even though I woke up this morning feeling like I was dying, I was fine. In fact I was flying right now. But I had nothing else to do, so I followed her advice. Trina disappeared off into the bathroom, presumably to resume her cleaning there.

Funny how life continues to go on. How I just started an affair with a man, and was making out on his couch, but here I was watching television like nothing happened. How life just goes on, and waits for no one. How such life-changing moments slip by, just like that, with no warning whatsoever.

>*<

_Trina locked herself in the bathroom. She sat on the floor, leaning against the door. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed. How her life was falling apart around her. Her husband just came home smelling of another woman. Soft perfume, soaking into his shirt. A strange sense of euphoria, and hickies along his neck._

_Trina always tried to be the perfect Jewish housewife. Always cleaning, cooking for the family, and raising their son. She tried her best to love Marvin. But he never loved her back. How she had to beg for sex, always loveless and disappointing. How Marvin never kissed her, never did anything romantic for her unless Trina begged for it._

_She tried. But it seems that her husband found another woman. She knew he was slipping away for the longest time. After they found out Trina was pregnant, Marvin closed up. Even before, Marvin wasn’t affectionate._

_But now he found someone else to give the love that he never gave to Trina. She stood up, looking in the mirror. Her makeup was running, her eyes puffy. Sighing, she gathered herself. She couldn’t have a breakdown. Her husband was in the next room over, and her son on the other side. Washing off her makeup, she reapplied it, not wanting any evidence of her despair._


	7. Soft Kisses and Real Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Marvin accidentally steals one of Whizzer's shirts, he comes to his apartment to retrieve it. However, their playful kisses quickly turn into something realer.

It’s been weeks since Whizzer waltzed into Marvin’s life, and with him soft kisses and cherry lip gloss. For weeks now I’ve snuck off at night, finding myself in Whizzer’s apartment. My new favorite pastime became catching his breath between my lips, with only the stars to guide my fingers. I’ve gone to his house after work, relaxing by slowly having my shirt pulled off of me. Lunch breaks were spent the sandwich shop, sharing a soda, his hand on my thigh underneath the table.

Tonight was one of those nights. We laid in Whizzer’s bed, our shirts on the floor. Nothing more though. Not yet. 

Whizzer lay under me, reaching up to meet my lips. They tasted of cherry chapstick, a flavor I learned to love. One of his soft hands were tugging on my hair, the other one propping him up. Both of my hands were running down Whizzer’s back, holding his body against mine. I sat on Whizzer, the best position to kiss him in.

Whizzer’s hand started lowering down my neck and spine, arriving at my hips. Delicate fingers brushed my belt, looking for the buckle. I didn’t even realize what he was doing until he was slipping my belt off.

I slapped his hand. “Whizzer, what are you doing?” I scolded.

Whizzer groaned, flopping flat on his bed. “Marv, you always do this!”

“Do what?”

Whizzer rubbed his face. “You always kiss me like something’s going to happen, then you freak out the moment I try to make it happen!” Whizzer pushed me off of him, then rolled into a sitting position. 

“Well, fine then. If you feel that way, I’ll just leave then.” I picked up a shirt off the ground, pulling it on. Mumbling swears under my breath, I struggled to put on the shirt. Not bothering to tuck it, I left his apartment. Even at 3 in the morning, New York City was still glowing with light. A stark contrast from the barely lit bedroom, I shielded my eyes as I walked back to my apartment.

Arriving at my door, I slowly swung it open. Slinking to my bedroom door, I slowly took off my trousers, not wanting to wake Trina. Crawling into bed with her, I quickly fell asleep.

“Marvin, wake up. It’s nearly noon.” Trina gently shook me awake. I grunted, and she left the room. Pulling myself out of bed, I stretched. My shirt was oversized, hanging loose from my body.

Wait.

I looked down at my shirt and sighed. In the dark last night, I accidentally put on Whizzer’s shirt. A few sizes too big to accommodate for his height, his pink polo slid down my shoulder. The smell of fruity perfume stained his shirt, and now staining my chest.

Taking his shirt off, I folded it and tucked it away in the closet, as to not let Trina see it. I changed back into my own clothes. Even without wearing his shirt, the smell of perfume still lingered on me. Walking out the bedroom, I settled on a lazyboy. Turning on the television, Trina walked into the living room from the kitchen.

“You’ve been so tired lately. Do you have trouble falling asleep?” Trina questioned. She was carrying a tray of eggs and pancakes, setting it down by me. 

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s been hard to fall asleep lately.” A slight grin on my face as I ate my breakfast. “Thank god it’s Saturday though.” Letting my mind turn to mush, I let myself waste away in front of the television. Tired from staying up so late last night, and from the guilt of having Whizzer’s shirt tucked in his closet, I rested on the couch for the rest of the evening, with no plans for anything different.

“Whizzer!” Trina’s voice rang through the house. Getting up from my chair, I walked towards the door; and saw the man in question standing there. 

I scowled. “What are you doing here?”

“Marvin.” His voice was flat, his arms crossed. 

“Whizzer.” I looked back at him, staring into his soft eyes.

Trina cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms, staring him down.

“I believe Marvin took something of mine and I’d like to have it back.” 

Trina sighed. I scoffed. “I didn’t mean to take it. I’ll go grab it.” Slipping off to the bedroom, I grabbed Whizzer’s shirt. I was about to walk out when I realized that walking out with a shirt that can easily be mistaken for a woman’s in front of my wife wasn’t a good idea.

I slunk into the kitchen, pulling a paper bag out of our cupboard. Slipping Whizzer’s shirt into the bag, I peeked into the living room. Trina and Whizzer were talking, and by the sounds of their voices, were making pleasant conversation.

“Here you go, Whiz.” Whizzer glared at me for that nickname. I always called him that to annoy him. He absolutely hated it.

“Just so you know, I’m staying over for dinner. Trina just invited me.”

Trina cleared her throat. “I just assumed since he came so near dinner that he should just stay.”

“Wonderful.” I stared Whizzer down, as he did to me. He did a much better job. Trina looked at the two of us for a second, then walked out of sight to the kitchen. 

I led Whizzer to our living room, passing Trina in the kitchen. As I comfied myself on a chair, Whizzer explored the living room. He examined family photos, lingering over photos of Trina; taking books off the shelves, flipping through them only to put them back; brushing his fingers over small trinkets. 

Whizzer finished studying the room and sat in front of me on the coffee table. He was right in front of me, so that our feet were touching.

“Nice place you got.” Whizzer stated.

I cracked a smile. “I have nothing to do with it. Trina decorated everything.”

“I can tell. Your style is shit.”

“Wow, thanks jackass.” I teased.

Whizzer stood from the coffee table, standing in front of me. His fingers crept towards my shirt.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” Whizzer’s eyes flashed a coy look, a sly smile breaking on his face.

“Whizzer, not here.” I mumbled, pushing him away. But he wouldn’t stop, and just kept going, gaining speed. He sat on my lap, putting his arms around me.

“Whizzer I’m serious. Trina is in the room right over.” I kept my voice low, careful to not let her accidentally overhear. I tried to shove him off, but he kept his grip. “Get off you horny bastard.”

“It’s fine, Marv.” Whizzer whispered into my ear. A voice so soft yet assertive. I froze, goosebumps ran up my spine. His cherry chapstick lips travelled from my ear, making their way down my cheekbones, finally reaching my lips. Giving in to his soft kisses, my lips soon followed. Whizzers hands ran down the back of my shirt, grabbing my back. Nails dug into my skin, but the pain was dulled by his kisses. My hands gripped Whizzer’s hips, toying with his belt. Soon they lowered, holding onto Whizzer’s ass. 

Trina’s voice rang out. “Marvin?” 

Fuck.

We stopped kissing. The two of us were frozen, my heart beating a thousand notes. Our faces drew from each other, inching away. I gained the courage to look up. Trina stood in the doorway, her face pale. Her chest rose, taking quick, shallow breaths. The three of us were frozen, each one scared to make the first move.

Whizzer climbed off of me. “I’ll go back home.” He mumbled.

“No.” Trina interjected. Her voice was laced with tears. “Stay. Please. Dinner is ready.” She walked off in a daze, as if she were sleep-walking, back into the kitchen.

A cold wave of numbness filled me. Today was the day I knocked over my little card tower of false hopes and beliefs. My secret was out, and soon my life would collapse. Before his pretty boy kisses were just some careless fun, but today they were something more serious. And that Trina didn’t want Whizzer to leave, was what scared me the most.

We marched into the kitchen, a stiff line of soldiers coming home from a weary battle. Jason sat at the table, as well as Trina. She was silent, shaking as she ate her chicken. Jason looked around, confused and scared. 

Whizzer and I both took our seat, looking at our meals. I’ve never seen him so quiet. He’s normally flamboyant, always flashing coy smirks, eyes full of tease, but right now they were empty. Scared and empty. It was strange, as I never knew how much I thought of Whizzer came from his aura.

None of us had an appetite, expect for Jason. He quickly finished his meal before slipping away to his room. The few times he talked were met with complete silence. The rest of us picked at our food, wondering when it would be appropriate to leave the table. I don’t know how long we sat there, before Trina said something. “So, Whizzer, how are you?” Politeness was forced into every ounce of her voice.

“I’m good.”Whizzer’s tone was flat and soulless. Trina nodded, on the edge of tears. After picking around her plate for a few minutes, she stood up.

“I must have eaten a lot during lunch, I’m not hungry.” She took her plate to the kitchen, once again walking in a trance. Once she left the room, Whizzer and I locked eyes. He took my hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Marvin.” His voice was soft. Such simple words, but they carried an impossible amount of weight. That he knew and knew that after today, our relationship would change. For better or for worse, I wasn’t sure. But we couldn’t go back from today, no matter how many times we’ve prayed or wished.

I wasn’t even sure what he was sorry for. Was he sorry for the affair, that I had to sneak away and lie to my spouse? Sorry that he kept going after I told him to stop, that his own passion may have destroyed our relationship? Sorry for being gay?

Trina came back from the kitchen, looking much more composed. Her smile was a little less forced, her eyes a little more calm. Whizzer stood up from the table. “I have to go.” She nodded at him, and we both watched him disappear into the hallway. The door opened, and a few moments passed by before it shut.

We stood there, frozen like wax figures, before I said something. “Trina, I-”

I was silenced by a nod. Her eyes fell to the floor, not wanting to make contact. Hugging herself, she lumbered into the kitchen. With a sigh, I got up and walked towards our liquor cabinet. Pouring myself a shot, the only comfort I could find was the inevitable blackout of intoxication.


	8. I Feel Him Slipping Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina remembers all the faults in herself and her relationships, trying to find something good.

_Marvin’s gay._

_Marvin and Whizzer were kissing._

_He’s with a man._

Trina stood in the kitchen, cutting carrots. Her movements a little too erratic, her cutting a little too wild.

_I’ve lost him to another man._

Her breaths were shaky and shallow, tears threatened to leak. She knew that Marvin was slipping away, not that she had a firm grasp anyways. They only married because she was pregnant. She remembered her wedding day, his eyes bleak and soulless. She remembered kissing him, the first time for months.

But there wasn’t any love after marriage. Turns out that’s all it was, a title. Marriage wasn’t a magic quick-fix for failing relationships. And a child only made things worse.

Marvin would often call her names, call her names like “bitch” and “slut”. There was never any physical abuse, but threats of such weren’t uncommon. He didn’t drink much, but when he did, he would lose himself. He’d yell and hit walls. His hair would be sloppy, and he would barely be able to walk. Then after everything he would claim himself to be the victim. That Trina was to blame for all of this.

They were young and stupid college kids who made stupid decisions. It was all harmless dates with a friend, nothing serious. Marvin was fine during this time, but he quickly went downhill. Being young and stupid, she begged him to have sex with her, to know what it felt like. Marvin made her first bland and passionless, and it ended with faking and disappointment.

After that night, he got a bit more unhinged. Then she missed her period. And the next. Her father begged her to marry Marvin after they found out she was pregnant. That she needed to be a perfect Jewish housewife, and being an unmarried mother was unacceptable. She thought it would keep Marvin with her if she filled this role.

That maybe if she were to clean the house and raise their child, they could live a normal life. Now she knew that they’re lives would be far from normal. 

Trina’s known for weeks now that Marvin’s been sneaking off to secret lovers. He’d come home smelling of fruity perfumes and cigarettes, with an afterglow that he’s never had for Trina. He’d sneak back into their bed at night, a dreamy smile on his face. She would often repress things, trying to ignore the harsh truths, but this one was undeniable. Marvin was having an affair.

With who, where, and how many people she didn’t know. She did what she did best and ignored it the best she could. She didn’t know if it was one person or multiple, or how many at a time. She never wanted to think about it. But for something like this, it was impossible to not spend countless hours wondering over it.

She often wonder what it was that she lacked. What it was about her that forced her husband to sneak out at night looking for love. She’d dress nice for him, spending mornings doing her makeup. She’d serve to his every need, fetching him breakfast and letting him rest. She’d be sweet to him, listen to him and encourage him. Apparently what she lacked was a penis.

She knew that he’s been sneaking out for months now. When he’d leave in the middle of the night when she pretended to be asleep, or when he’d stay late after work for “overtime”. He would always smell of perfume, but a smell Trina never bought. 

But not with a man. That was the thing she wasn’t expecting. That she married a homo, that she had a child with one. That the people he snuck out to kiss were men. It was sick how she ended up with this as her reality. 

The only consultation were the years of loveless marriage finally made sense. How Marvin never kissed her, never seemed interested in her body. How he did seem to like her, but when the platonic turned to romantic he revolted. Even if he had a reason, there wasn’t forgiveness for what he had done.

And when she found this out, she once again tried to ignore it. She wanted Whizzer to stay for dinner, so that maybe she can pretend that her husband’s coworker just dropped by for lunch. That everything in her life was normal.

Normal. What a perfect word. She used to despise that word when she was young. She wanted more than anything to take on the world, to change what a lady should be. But now she only wanted a husband who loved her, and a son who was every mother dreamed of having.

She felt sick for saying that. That even her child wasn’t normal. Sure, he was a genius, but strange for his age. He was quiet and sensitive, and had a greater social understanding than most six year olds. He had no friends, and preferred to play chess alone. Even a two-player game he chose to be alone in. 

She hated all of it. She hated that she couldn’t hate it. Whizzer was just so goddamn likable, that she actually wished him the best. She wanted to hate the man her husband was cheating on her with, but she couldn’t. 

Maybe that was her downfall. She always saw the best in people. If she would have seen Marvin’s faults quicker, maybe she wouldn’t be in this spot. If she would have left Marvin, not sticking it out to be a housewife, maybe she wouldn’t be breaking down in her kitchen.

However, she didn’t know what to do if she would have left. So much of how she thought of herself revolved around being a housewife and caring for men. Stupid, fussy men, but that was her life. To stick it out with the childish men in her life to appease them. That was her role. 

Yes, she’ll stick it out with Marvin. She’ll play her role as a perfect housewife, and Marvin can do whatever he wants on his part. Toughing it out with a smile, she’ll continue what she was doing before, ignoring all the doubts she’s been feeling. Even if it meant not being her husband’s only object of affection, she could do that.


	9. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin knows what he has to do.

I was completely wasted. My head thudded, and I could barely keep my hand steady enough to pour another shot. Only one phrase went through my head. That she knew about me and Whizzer. That I loved him. 

What was something that started off as playful banter and mischievous kisses turned into something much more real. Something much more dangerous. What would happen to me and Trina? More than that, what would happen if this got out? That very thought sickened me. No one wants to be friends with a homo, no one wants to hire a homo. My entire life could be ruined because of something that was so simple and lighthearted. 

My stomach was tied in knots. I stood up and immediately fell to the ground. I groaned, laying down for a few minutes. I stood up once more, and lumbered to the bathroom. I leaned against the wall for support, nearly falling a few times. I heard Trina in the kitchen, but my own heartbeat blocked me from hearing exactly what she was doing.

I threw open the bathroom door, and immediately fell onto the toilet. I vomited, heaving as my meager dinner came back up. Cold sweat dripped down my back as I heaved over the toilet. I was finally done, and laid on the cool tile. Time seemed foreign to me, and somehow I ended up in my bed, falling asleep. Maybe it was more of a blackout, I wasn’t sure.

>*<

Daylight poured into the room, slowly drifting me to consciousness. I woke up, my head pounding. For a second, my mind was blank. Then last night’s memories came crashing down. I much preferred the sleepy ignorance.

The ignorance of how me and Whizzer were soaring in my living room.

How Trina caught me with Whizzer. 

And how my life got destroyed in three seconds.

A part of me knew what I had to do. The sane part of me was screaming to not do that. That to do it would ruin my life. But I knew that I couldn’t go back. I jumped off the cliffside, and I couldn’t admire the view anymore. It was my life now. 

Funny thing how jumping off a cliff can kill you though.

But I needed to do this. I couldn’t bare to spend another night with Trina, pretending to have an interest in her body, or to feign love for her. I needed real love. And I knew what I had to do to get it.

I looked at my side, seeing an empty bed. Trina never came into our bed last night. That fact made this all the more intimidating. I left the bedroom, and entered the dining room. Jason was nowhere to be seen, and Trina sat alone with a cup of tea.

A makeshift bed has been made on the couch, no doubt where she slept. I sat across the table from her where another cup of tea sat. I already wanted to throw up from the nerves. The tea glared at me, a terrible reminder of what I was about to lose.

“Marv, how are-”

“I want a divorce.” I couldn’t believe I spoke that outloud. I had to spit it out, like I had eaten something rotten. A huge weight was lifted off of me with those four words, that was quickly replaced by another weight. I couldn’t bare to met Trina’s face.

“Marvin?” Her tone was broken, begging for it to be a joke.

“Things will be better for the both of us. I promise.” I finally met her eyes. What heartbreak I saw in her eyes last night were nothing compared to now.

“Marvin, please don’t tell me you’re serious.” Trina begged, and tears started to crawl down her face.

“You’ll come through, I promise.”

“Can we please just talk it through, as friends? Not lovers, just friends.” Trina pleaded, desperate. 

“You can’t keep doing this Trina, you’re dying.”

“Hold him, that’s fine Marvin. But hold me too. Strip him down, but strip me too. I don’t care. But stay.” Her words became rushed, struggling to spit them out through her tears.

“This is better for the both of us.” My voice was soft, convincing myself as well as her.

“Please.” She hardly begged this time. It was soft and defeated, knowing that she couldn’t change what happened.

“I’m sorry.” I leaned across the table, and took her hand. She stopped crying for a moment, looking into my eyes. There was a slight nod, her lips pressed thinly together. I started to head into the bedroom to pack my stuff when I heard a door open. Jason peeked out from his bedroom door.

“I heard Mom crying. What’s going on?” His chocolate eyes flickered from me to Trina, concern growing on his face each second.

“Something happened, and I want you to know that I love you very much. But please go to your room for now, Mom will tell you when you can come out.” I bent down, looking at him in the face. His face was full of doubt, but he said nothing and returned to his room. I stood, lingering at his door for a minute. 

He would do to his son what his father did to him; he would leave him in a family with loveless parents. How this could ruin Jason. 

“Whatever happens, I promise you’ll have a tight-knit family.” I whispered. ‘You’ll’, not ‘we’. I needed Jason to have a better life than I did. Tears choked up, and I continued to my room.

I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, it’s not manly. Packing my clothes, tears kept threatening to pour. But I pushed them back, channeling my anger as I squeezed my ties. Trina normally packed everything, so everything was hastily shoved in. Alas, it all fit.

Returning into the kitchen, I refused to make eye contact with Trina. Gentle sobbing from the dining table let me know that she hadn’t moved.

“You’re leaving? Just like that?” I cringed, not wanting to talk with her. But now that she talked to me, there was no ignoring her.

“Yeah, I’m going to Whizzer’s. I don’t know for how long.” I turned towards Trina, and saw she was wine straight out of the bottle.

“Whizzer’s.” She let out a small delirious laugh. “Of course.” She continued to mumble to herself, moving her attention away from me.

I wanted to say something to comfort her, but nothing came to mind. Instead, I just left our house. Her house now.

The crowd pushed me to the side, and I was forced to carry my suitcase. I made my way on a trek that I grew accustomed to, but this was by far the most morbid time I’ve walked this path.

I turned into his building without needing to check it was the right. No one batted an eye at my presence, I’ve been there so often. The elevator doors slid open, allowing enough time for my suitcase to follow me in. I started to rise, with each floor my heart jumped.

Before long, I knocked on Whizzer’s door. I began to panic, wondering if he was out. That I would have to stand by his door for hours, possibly even the night. But the door swung open, revealing a surprise Whizzer.

“Marvin, what is going on?” His tone was soft and concerned. 

“I broke up with Trina.” I lumbered past him, dumping my suitcase by the couch. 

“You what?” Whizzer went into the kitchen, and came out with a bottle of wine. Whizzer hopped on the couch right next to me, with two glasses. He poured our drinks, both of us not daring to break the silence.

“Do you need to crash here for some time?” Whizzer handed me my glass.

“I was hoping for something more permanent.” I mumbled.

Whizzer grabbed my knee. “That’s fine. Stay here for as long as you need to. I know what it’s like to be shunned for something you can’t control, believe me. I want to help you, Marv.”

I laughed morbidly. “Yeah? Why so?”

“Because I love you, Marv.” Whizzer’s voice was as soft as his pretty face. His eyes met mine, and there was something inside that I couldn’t make out. Passion, trust, it was none of that. It was something more. It was love.

“And I love you too, Whizzer.” I placed my hand on his, and for the first time in months, I felt confident of my future.


End file.
